by Lori Avocato
As amazingly wonderful as being in his arms was right then, curiosity got the better of her and she slowly disengaged their lip-lock just enough to peek up over one of Paul’s broad shoulders. Her eyes went wide. Now she understood why none of her neighbors had called the cops about the hippo butt in the front door … they were all in on it. Everyone from the whole block seemed to be standing in her front yard, along with several men in green army dress uniforms holding bottles of champagne and bouquets of flowers—more specifically, poinsettias in pots, as was appropriate for a Holiday Proposal. For Marcy that was better than roses. She gave a happy little sniff and buried her face against Paul’s neck, her head resting on his shoulder and her arms fitting ever so nicely around his waist.
The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace as Marcy and Paul snuggled on the couch, Alex racked out cold on the floor at their feet. The last of the neighbors had left only a few minutes ago, encouraged by Paul’s Army buds who had taken the hint of, “So, are you mooches ever going to get the hell outta here and give us some privacy?” in good stride, and translated it into the more politically correct, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I think we shouldn’t overstay our welcome and let the newly-engaged have some time to themselves.” With much hugging and handshaking, congratulating and best wishing, they all filed out the door amid plans to meet for brunch the next morning.
“That was fun. You’ve got some great neighbors.” He nuzzled into Marcy’s hair and pulled her even tighter against him.
“Yeah, I do. I’d always thought of them as a little bit too nosy, but I think I like having people around that I know. It’s almost like living in a small town where everybody knows your business. I like your guys, too.” She snuggled down, burrowing into his arms as close as she could. “Are they going to keep you together when you’re assigned or is everyone ‘to the winds’?”
“They’re a great bunch, but they probably won’t keep us together. We’ll be sent to established units according to our skills and their needs. We haven’t even gotten our MOSs yet.” He took another sip of the champagne and looked toward the door where everyone had filed out earlier. “I like knowing you have friends around while I’m gone. It’s going to make it easier on me if I know there are people you can count on close-by.”
“Whether I have these neighbors or not, I’ve still got Jeff and Sarah. And Mom and Dad are only a few hours away. And, I’m now wired in with the Officers’ Wives Club … Wow … I’m about to be an officer’s wife.” She sat up straight and beamed at him.
“Marcy … you’re really sure about all this? It’s going to mean long stretches away from each other. You’re young and you’re going to want to go out and have some fun. And there’s always the possibility of that knock on the door from the Chaplain’s office …” His voice trailed off leaving the hard, cold facts laid out in front of them.
“I’m sure. I always have been. And it will be the same long stretch for you. Hey, I’ve got the women on base. They’re always busy with some project or other. And the shooting club is coming along very nicely. We’re actually thinking of entering some competitive meets. How’d you like to get outshot by a bunch of your wives and mothers, Oh Mighty Ranger of the South?” she teased lightly before going serious on him. “Plus, I do have friends from work and even a few from school who are in the area. I have family close to hand … and truthfully … where would I want to go without you?” She took his glass, finished off the champagne in it and set it on the end table before crawling into his lap. “As to that other consideration … hey … I could get hit by a bus or a lightning bolt tomorrow and you could live to be one hundred. No one’s fate is written.” She turned his face toward hers and looked deeply into his eyes. “As long as you love me, I’ll be fine. I’m an Army wife, you know.”
Yes, she was an Army wife. Or would be just as soon as he could arrange it, definitely before he shipped OUTCONUS. He laughed to himself at how he even thought in military acronyms—Outside Continental United States. She was his, and it was his duty, his honor—and his pleasure—to see to her safety and security, whether fighting the bad guys over there, or filling out the paperwork that would take care of her over here.
But that could wait until at least the morning. Tonight they had other things that needed attention. Paul wrapped his arms around the wonderful woman in his lap, his woman, and they melted into each other.
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Epilogue
Ranger Paul Callahan watched as the snow fell thick and silent. From his position as lookout at the opening of the shallow cave high in the mountains of Afghanistan, he could see far down the trail below them. He and his men had been lucky to find this defensible spot right before dusk and taken up shelter there for the night. A small crunch of boot on gravel alerted him that one of his teammates was coming to relieve him from his guard duty where he’d been hunkered down over his rifle for the last four hours. The man tapped him on the helmet and he moved aside to let him assume the overwatch position. Wordlessly he tapped back to acknowledge the silent change of watch and moved over to the other side of the opening. Although he was now free to return to the cave and grab some chow and rack time, he didn’t move inside. Instead, he closed his eyes for a minute, let the tension drain from his neck and shoulders, and allowed his mind to shift out of guard mode to more pleasant thoughts.
Mail call had found them right before they went out again and their holiday packages from home had arrived. As always, Marcy had packed enough for not only him but extras that he could share with his men, and even enough for some of the locals. It was never easy being away from her at this time of year, but her traditional extravaganza of cookies and brownies, hand warmers, and homemade goodies sure did make it easier to bear until he could get back home and hold her in his arms. He made sure he always told her how much she meant to him, how having her as his partner in this world made such a difference in his life, but he wasn’t sure she could ever truly comprehend just how much of a difference. She was the heart of his home. She was where he lived. No matter where his duty took his body, his soul was in her keeping.
Paul looked down at the luminescent dial on his watch: 2200. Their daily ritual time. He removed his winter glove and touched the wedding ring wrapped in tape on his finger. He stared at it for a few moments, then reached into his inside breast pocket and pulled out a tiny stuffed Beany Bear dressed in camo BDUs—just like the one on his Christmas stocking—that he always carried with him. He looked westward and sent a silent ‘Merry Christmas, Darling’ to his sweet wife at home. Soon, Sweetheart. Soon.
On the other side of the world, Marcy looked up from decorating their tree. The hair on the back of her neck tickled and her heart got a warm glow. Paul was thinking about her. She looked at her watch—1300 on the dot. Yup … her Ranger was right on time, as usual. This was their daily ritual, developed over the years to tie them together, but on this day—Christmas Eve—it was always extra special. She brought her wedding ring to her lips and then to her heart. Almost the same motion Paul had made right before he proposed to her. Later he’d told her the kiss on it was ‘for love and luck.’
When the minute passed, she carefully placed the last ornament on their tree. As always, she’d saved the best for last: the miniature inflatable raft ornament with a sparkling crystal tied to the front by a teeny red ribbon. She smiled down at it, remembering, then looked over to the fireplace where Paul’s stocking hung by the chimney with great care. She gave a deep sigh.
It would be a lonely Christmas without him, but that was sometimes the fate of an Army wife. She’d known what the deal was when she’d signed on and she accepted that. He’d rotate home after the first of the year and they would have a wonderful celebration when he got here. After all, Christmas wasn’t just a specific day on the calendar. It would be their holiday time WHENEVER he made it home to her. She kissed her fingertips, reached over and placed them lovingly on the heart of the stocking’s bear and smiled. Her Sweet Army
Ranger Bear.
She went back to decorating the tree with tinsel, gently laying the strands one by one. There was a click and whir as the CD changed and after a few moments Marcy began to hum along with the new tune, then sang softly, “… Christmas Eve will find me … Where the love light beams … I’ll be home for Christmas … If only in my dreams …”
Merry Christmas, Sweetheart. Be safe and warm and come home to me soon. Christmas is wherever you are, whenever we are together. I Love You.
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Tied With A Bow
Anne Elizabeth
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Anne Elizabeth is a marketing consultant and the monthly columnist for RT BOOK Reviews on the topic of comics, manga, and graphic novels. She has a BS in Business and MS in Communications from Boston University and has over a decade and a half in the corporate and private business sectors, though she prefers writing, interviews, research, and reader events.
AE is a member of the Author’s Guild; Romance Writers of America; and a regular presenter at the Romantic Times BOOK LOVERS Convention. Among her published credits are the Atria/Simon & Schuster anthologies, CARAMEL FLAVA & HONEY FLAVA, and the Highland Press sweet collection, RECIPE FOR LOVE; the Spec Ops Military Anthologies OPERATION: L.O.V.E. and HOLIDAY OP and the soon-to-be released book: FOR YOUR HEART ONLY. Her graphic novel, PULSE OF POWER, debuts with the Dabel Brothers in February 2010.
She enjoys Kenpo, hiking, mountain biking, yoga, Body Rev, painting, and kayaking. Her husband is a retired Navy SEAL, and they are active in the West Coast Navy SEAL community. Her favorite motto is “Passion is the breath of life. Live boldly!” Also, a quote inspired by her grandfather gathers much of her creative advice into one sentence, “Look inside, find the message that is yours to share, and give it to the world.”
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Dedication
This fictional story is dedicated to the outstanding men and women of the United States military. With much gratitude to those who protect and serve, eternally we salute you with the greatest respect and praise we may share. Thank you!
With many thanks to Lori Avocato, Tara Nina, DC DeVane, and Lia DeAngelo for participating in the collection, and to Christina Skye for her cover quote; to Leanne Burroughs for her vision, support, and belief in the collection and the anthology series, and for allowing us to continue to donate to the SOWF; to Patty Howell for her terrific edits; to Charles DeVane for all things computer-related; to my brilliant mentor, my cherished friends, my talented agent, and enormous HOOYAHs to the EOD guru—for help with the facts and advice on the fiction; to the BBers—Brenda, Rose, Mary, Jan, Ing, Stephanie, Catherine, Mic, Lynn, Ginger, Robin, Beki, Peg, Erika, and Cindy; to Izaline and Frank who celebrate family; to my blessed and dearly missed brother; to my amazing parents—I love you—you are THE BEST; and to my wonderful husband, Carl who reminds me every day that life must hold pleasure, joy, fun, smiles, and enormous bouts of laughter as well as everlasting love.
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Chapter One
A bead of sweat rolled down his back. Christmas music played in the background despite the heat in the office. Eight floors high, and it was as hot as California’s Sultan Sea on a spring day.
Noise battered his ears. His job was difficult enough without orders and misguided shouts coming through his ear COM. Know It All on the other end knew nothing. That’s what happened when the Washington D.C. Police Department hired consultants to be Incident Commander. He had a lot of respect for the police force and the rest of the law enforcement agencies, but if personnel weren’t stretched so tightly during the holidays, there wouldn’t be non-professionals in such an important role. The Incident Commander had to be capable of managing a crisis, or at the very least a person who knew enough to let him do his job. Navy EOD was here, asked to participate in these emergencies, because they were known for being effective.
Did he mention yet another spoofy rendition of Jingle Bells blaring over the central office speakers? If he were a different kind of person, he just might be tempted to slip out the back after disabling the bomb.
But this was his job, what he did and who he was. He was an EOD Specialist. Performing Explosive Ordnance Disposal for the Navy, saving the public and his men from harm, was his sole reason for existing.
A plethora of someone else’s family references were in this office. A tree. Candy canes. Presents. Cards. Pictures. But for him, there was no family, no gifts, and no holiday remembrances past his teenage years. When his parents had passed away, he’d traded one foster home after another until he enlisted in the Navy.
Pushing away the excess thoughts, muscles tensed as Captain Devin Walds reached out a hand and grasped the green wire. But, boy, looking at this bomb, he had to admit the holidays did encourage folks to do bizarre things. This was the strangest bomb he’d ever seen. Now, focused completely on his task, he noticed, although the wires were placed very precisely, there were all these unusual knots and kinks.
“You’re about to cut the wrong wire!” The voice he wished he could block screeched over the COM. “It’s the blue wire! Listen to me, Captain Walds. Don’t block me out!”
“Shut up! Let him do his job!” In the background the new CO tried to silence the Incident Commander-IC. “It’s an IED—Improvised Explosive Device. Get it—it’s improvised. There’s no manual. Walds is our best.”
The IC had already caused four traffic pile-ups and an electrical cut on three buildings two blocks over. More serious casualties, because of the man’s incompetence to lead the situation appropriately, were only a matter of time.
Hand steady, Devin brought the knife up and in one swipe severed the green wire.
The clock sped, counting down.
Screams issued over the COM. “He did it wrong! Walds screwed up!” The IC’s panicked voice barked commands with a high-pitched yell. “Evacuate! It’s going to blow! Go! Go! Go!”
Deliberately, Devin pushed aside several wires until he found a small black one. Calm pervaded. This was what he was looking for. The cutoff.
The clock ran down the minutes. Seconds remained.
The knife sliced the wire and the clock froze. Three seconds blinked at him from the digital display.
This was what he did. Defuse and disable bombs. Welcome to Navy EOD.
He relaxed. Leaning back, he settled himself in the pale butterscotch leather ergonomic chair. This one had to have cost hundreds of dollars, definitely top of the line.
Rubbing his eyes, he stretched. Luxuriating in the fact that all his body parts were still attached, he waited for command center to realize there hadn’t been an enormous BOOM!
Oddly enough, chaos still ensued. Captured loudly on his COM, it was a contrast to the calm atmosphere in the office. Another Christmas carol keyed up over the office speaker. “Hark, the Herald Angel’s Sing.”
What was with Command Central? It was unheard of for an IC to create such a dangerous situation with so much melodrama.
He clicked the mic twice. “This is Santa One, all clear.”
Looking at the bomb, he thought, Fate’s a fickle creature, but skill is skill.
Devin wondered if the new CO was shaking his head and trying to calm the IC. It had been a riot listening to him explain to the heads of the Intelligence Community departments the reason why they weren’t using robots right now. These latest techno toys had been encountering interference, and no one had been able to determine from what. On the last job, something had jammed the signal between the remote and the robot, and the team had lost two topnotch operators, a building, and their best robot unit. When they’d reviewed the footage afterward, it had seemed as though something else had controlled the final devastating moments. But nothing could bring back his men. The loss marked his soul.
He stared out the window. Willing the view to entice him. It was a decent day outside. No clouds, only bright sunshine. The light painted a prism of rainbows alo
ng one wall of the room. He’d noticed the tiny crystals at the sides of the window. They were mostly octagons. Some even shaped as animals.
In here, the office was serene. A nice place to work, probably. The name on the degrees on the wall read Brenda Rosing Pente.
The room had a woman’s touch. He wondered what she was like. The lady who’d decorated this room. A delicate variation of blues and creams, it was gentle on the senses, and the art was engaging, too. Garden-scapes with a jewel-toned impressionist flare, but there was a texture on top of it. Like they held a dual meaning. Places he could find peacefulness in, a feeling he relished.
The Christmas tree stood next to a big credenza. On it sat several pictures—large sailboats; NASCARs; three people, perhaps a father and mother with their proud daughter at her graduation; that same woman dressed in business attire kissing a guy in a matching colored suit; and two women arm-in-arm. Sisters? The resemblance between the two was startling, except one had vivid, light green eyes. Both had athletic builds and warm expressions. Of course, trying to guess a woman’s age could get a man in trouble.
He looked closer at the photos in back. The ladies had raised funds for cancer research, and one had donated bone marrow to a soldier in need. Several more shots showed her donating paintings and proceeds to hospitals, VA facilities, and shelters. These were extraordinary souls.
It shocked him to realize he’d like to know her.
Settling back in the chair, he thought about that as snowflakes dropped from the sky.